Wait
by unfold
Summary: Set at end of season four. Rory gives Jess another chance but still makes one monumental mistake. Reviews are fuel to my writing fire.


**A/N: This should probably be rated M in actuality but when you rate things M, they don't show up on the list with everything else. SO. Be warned that this includes sexual situations and some foul language. **

As his lips come down on her, she doesn't know what is happening. Or, she knows what just not why. Her eyes are open and she watches him kiss her. The feeling is a knife twisting against her spine. Steel against bone. It is guilt. It is pity. It is self loathing. It is regret.

She isn't pulling away. She isn't stopping it. She lets it happen. She lets his hands work their way under her shirt. His rough fingertips brush against her skin, a feeling that with another person at another time would make her tingle, make her crumble. This time it feels scratchy and almost painful as he runs his fingers down the entirety of her back that is now completely bare. She looks to her left and sees that her shirt is on the floor along with her bra. She didn't notice this happening.

A breath escapes from his lips, "Rory…" And then their bodies are pressed against each other and he is groaning and making noises that send her stomach into convulsions. She stays silent beneath him, not wanting to upset him, wanting to avoid a fight. This is how it has always been. But, no. He loves her, she thinks. He loves her and that's what matters. This could be rape if she voiced her inward thoughts of resistance. And she can't breathe.

This should be good, she thinks. He's good to me. I should be happy that this is happening with him. But, she isn't because this is all wrong. Because when her eyes close, there is another face painted on her eyelids. Because that face is waiting for her, loves her, needs her. And she is giving into this for all the wrong reasons.

"Rory?" It's over now and she is nothing but relieved. "Rory, are you alright?" The concern in his voice stifles her breathing and she wants him to be gone.

"I'm fine. I just…I have to go." But, this is her room, her bed, her house. She shouldn't be the one to leave. He's standing up and she turns away, not wanting to see his body.

"Oh. Okay." He hesitates, looking at her. She gathers the sheet around herself. "Rory, was that…I mean, I hope it was okay, that you wanted it to happen."

She chews on her bottom lip until it starts to bleed. "Yeah…" She can't finish. She can't say that it was okay. She has been so good at lying lately but she won't let herself this time.

She closes her eyes as he gets dressed and he doesn't say a word when he leaves. She hears the door close behind him and her eyes open.

The feeling comes over her, enveloping her like a thunderstorm. She is clawing at the sheets with sobs so strong they are silent. The face painted on her eyelids returns and she suddenly feels nothing.

* * *

He waits for her the entire time. Despite seeing Dean walk into her house as he walked by, looking for her. Despite the doubt filling his head like smoke. He waits. Because this is their new relationship. Because she promised that they would try this time, harder.

But, it has been hours and he knows one thing that could be taking her and Dean hours. He won't accuse her of anything. He'll wait for her to tell him what happened. He'll let her explain herself. And whatever lie she tells him, he'll believe it.

He lights a cigarette to steady the shaking of his hands, of his body. But it doesn't make it any easier to stand, knowing what is probably going on in her bedroom. He is filled with images of their bodies entwined together, tangled in her teenage sheets. He can see them writhing and moaning….He feels sick to his stomach.

This is not what was supposed to happen. Last night, she had looked at him with soft eyes as though she had been waiting for this all year. Waiting for him. But not him, a changed person. And he had given her that. He had changed his life for her. But, that wasn't enough. He would never be enough. He isn't what she really wants, he knows this. He is a temporary distraction. Someone to bide her time while she waits for someone better, for Dean.

He knows he should be walking away. But, he isn't. He wants to wait. He needs to wait. He wants her to tell him that it isn't true, all of these things he's imagining. But, he knows. Somehow he can feel it, that things have changed, that she is going back on last night's promise. He laughs because the one time that he should actually be leaving, he is staying. He laughs because for once, things are falling apart and it isn't his fault. He laughs because he's so fucking stupid when it comes to her.

She is walking up to him and he wonders how many showers she took afterwards. She doesn't say a word when she approaches him, just looks off, somewhere behind him. He thinks he can smell it, him, their misdeed. He thinks he sees bruises on her collar bone. He is sure there is still sweat dripping from her brow.

"I've been waiting for three hours."

"I'm sorry."

"Sure." He hesitates, realizing she won't bring it up on her own. She won't even make something up. "How was he?"

Her head shoots up. "Who?"

"Don't do that, Rory."

"I…I don't know what you're talking about." Her lip is trembling and he hates that she's going to cry. He hates that look she gets when she's about to cry.

"Yes, you do. Don't make this harder for me, Rory."

"Jess…"

"You were fucking him while I was standing here waiting for you!"

She looks like she's been shot, just standing there with her eyes wide open. And she is falling to ground, bending at the knees. He doesn't give her a second glance when she lands at his feet. "Oh, God…" But it is more just a noise than words coming from her mouth as she grabs at the leg of his pants.

"Rory, stop. I will not feel sorry for you this time. Not for this. Not after everything. You know, I was standing here, waiting for you, fully aware of what was going on in your house. And…And I love you so fucking much that I was going to let you it slide, just let it go. Pretend it never happened. I was going to let you lie to me."

"Jess…I…I didn't want it. I didn't…I just got scared. And he was kissing me and I couldn't stop him. I couldn't say no. I didn't know what to do. I froze. I just…I let him do it even though I hated every minute of it. I kept seeing your face, whenever I closed my eyes, there you were. And I thought that maybe he'd stop when he noticed I was just lying there beneath him. But, he didn't. I was so…" She stops because her head hurts and her eyes burn from all the sobbing.

"You used to be so much stronger than this, Rory. What changed?" His voice has softened.

"No. I was strong with you but never with Dean. I was never strong with Dean. I let him control me. I did what he wanted because I didn't want to upset him. All those times I ignored you just because it would make him mad. I wasn't strong. I was strong with you because I had to be. You wouldn't be. I had to be strong because I was afraid. Because you were always leaving, always letting me down."

Of all the things to be thinking, she is thinking he is beautiful. She watches his silhouette and thinks that he is perfect. His head is lowered and he is leaning against the street light with hands shoved deeply into his pockets. When he's being serious, his lips are always parted just a little bit. There is a sadness in his eyes and she hates that she put it there.

"I hated it. Every minute of it. It was supposed to be you, you know. You were supposed to be the first. I wanted you to be the first. It was going to be tonight or maybe tomorrow night. It was going to be soon." She waits, thinking he should say something now. "I threw up when he came. I had to swallow it back down." She doesn't know why she includes the last part. Maybe she thinks it will help. Maybe she thinks he'll see how much this hurts her. Maybe he'll see how ashamed she is. Of everything.

"Rory." Her name comes out of his mouth like a full sentence, wrought with emotion. Sometimes his jaw goes crooked when he talks, especially when he forms vowels. She almost smiles. "It can't be me now, can it? Not anymore."

She is standing now. She wants to be eye level with him. "No. It can't. Jess, you…You have to know that I didn't want this. That this is all a mistake. That I never meant…not with him. It was supposed to be you."

"How am I supposed to forgive you?"

"I don't think that you can. Or should. Just….Five."

"What?"

"I took five showers afterwards. I kept thinking I had gotten it. Whatever it was. The smell, the feeling. I thought I had gotten it all. But, then I'd smell something or I'd remember some part of me that hadn't been washed as thoroughly as the rest and I'd get back in. I scrubbed until my skin was red, until it was almost bleeding."

"Christ…" Her head is leaning against his shoulder and he lets his hands rest on her back.

She isn't crying anymore. She can't. "I need to know that we can get past this."

He brings her closer, pressing her body against his. He wonders if this is uncomfortable. He wonders if she doesn't want to be near anyone after what has happened. But, she isn't shrinking away from his touch, she isn't screaming, she is breathing. In and out. Slowly, against his neck.

He doesn't answer her because he doesn't know if they can. He had been sure the night before, looking at her, watching the shadows fall across her skin. When she said calmly and quietly, "We can try. You owe me that, right?" He had thought then that those words were enough. That the simple nod of his head and then the feeling of her hands placed on either side of his face, that these things were enough.

With her arms around his neck, she speaks softly against his ear. "I was so mad at you for so long…And all you ever did was leave before it fell apart." Her fingers are pulling at his hair. "Now, here I am, giving you another chance and then sleeping with Dean." She lets her lips touch his neck. "And you're not even pushing me away."

He is silent and for a second she thinks that this is it. That he's going to take her arms from around his neck and push them back to her sides. And then he'll walk away. Instead, he is pressing his cheek against her own. "Consider it my tragic flaw."


End file.
